


Can You Smile?

by ChibiMethos



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:28:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiMethos/pseuds/ChibiMethos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili proposes to Tauriel just before the Battle of Five Armies, but Fate is not kind to this unusual couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Smile?

**Author's Note:**

> This is version #1 of this story, with a cannon(ish) ending. I'm also working on a longer AU version that starts off the same, but will have a much happier ending. For now, enjoy the sad feels.
> 
> ***

             Fili and Kili followed Thorin through the gold storeroom, each prince overwhelmed by the sheer volume of items in the room. They kept exchanging glances, unable to keep their eyes fixed on any one point. There was just far too much to see. Finally, Fili reached out and tapped Thorin.

            “Uncle . . . perhaps _we_ could find something for Mother?”

            Thorin started, clearly having forgotten the presences of his nephews and Heirs. He nodded, and cast about for a moment, then pulled over a chest. When he opened it, the brothers were greeted by gold, silver, mithril, and platinum hair decorations. Kili whistled and Thorin slammed it shut. He handed the chest to Fili.

            “Some of these are Promise Beads, but there should be something in there Dís might like.”

            The brothers nodded, and scrambled out of the room, leaving Thorin alone. In their tent, they began sorting through the chest. Kili kept setting aside sapphire and emerald Promise Beads that would look well in red hair, and finally, Fili shut the lid of the chest.

            “Kili. Kili!”

            The younger prince started, and looked sheepishly into his brother’s disapproving blue eyes.

            “What?”

            Fili sighed. “Stop it.”

            Kili’s face went blank, and his eyes widened slightly, making him look very young and innocent. This was The Look that always got him extra sweets as a child, but at the moment, it wasn’t working on his brother.

            “Stop what?” he asked.

            Fili huffed, causing the braids in his mustache to flutter. “Thinking about _HER_. You and I both know Uncle Thorin will have to give his permission before _either_ of us can wed. And you know damn well he will never allow you to take an _elf_ for a bride!”

            Kili flushed and looked away. “Mother—”

            “Will _not_ be able to move him, even assuming she would _countenance_ such an alliance! And _no-one_ will be able to convince the Elf-King either! He and Uncle Thorin hate each other!”

            “But,” Kili protested. “If she is willing to wait, I know that if you were to wed first, Uncle might agree. It would remove me from the Line of Succession, but truly, what sort of king would I make anyway?”

            Fili closed his eyes, trying to relieve the pressure he could feel building behind his eyes, his mother’s last words ringing through his ears.

            _‘Look after him, Fili. You know how reckless your brother can be sometimes. You are the eldest. It’s your responsibility to make sure he stays out of trouble.’_

            “Kili—”

            “I’m serious!” Kili rushed on before Fili could voice further protest. “If we can convince Uncle and King Thranduil—” He lowered his voice, glancing out the door of the tent to be sure he wasn’t overheard.

            “—It would be strictly— _officially_ —it would be nothing more than a marriage of convenience—a political alliance. No-one has to know how we feel. And after a few years . . .well, we just got _used_ to each other . . . ”

            Fili refused to admit his brother’s argument had merit. “Kili, Thorin would rather we marry into one of the Seven Families.”

            “But they are already our allies,” Kili protested. “The Elves are not.”

            Cornered, Fili huffed again, then reopened the chest. “Fine. Whatever. Live in your little fantasy world. But do not be surprised if she will not have you. Or Uncle disowns you.”

 

***

 

            Tauriel slipped away from the patrols circling the gates of Erebor and into the shadow of one of the giant dwarf statues flanking the gate. Earlier, she had seen Kili lurking there, trying to catch her attention. As she passed a recess, a hand shot out and pulled her in.

            “Tauriel! It’s me! It’s Kili!”

             She stilled her fight, and looked down at him, draped in a concealing cloak and hood, which he was pushing back so she could see his eager, smiling face.

              “Kili.” She knelt to his level and hugged him. “What’s going on? Thranduil called all his armies to this place, claiming Thorin has robbed him. Has Thorin lost his mind?”

              Kili looked away. “I’m not sure, He—I think he is overwhelmed to be at home again.”

              Tauriel smiled, slightly amused and admiring that he would not speak ill of his king.

              “But that is not why I snuck out,” he changed the subject. “I don’t have much time.”

              “What is on your mind?” she asked.

              “If we can get out of this . . . mess,” he gestured to the armies surrounding the gate. “Will . . . will you . . . would you be willing . . . to come with me  . . . before my uncle, and accept my suit? I know most will think us both mad, but if we can convince our kings it is the only way to peace, and I drop my place in the Succession—” He was running his words together in his nervousness.

             Tauriel put her finger to his lips to stall the flow of his words. “My Lord. Kili, your request _is_ mad.”

             His face flushed and he started to pull away, stammering an unintelligible apology.

             “But,” she continued.  “If we go before our kings, and pledge our love before the Courts, and our willingness to wed no matter what, there will be little they can do to stop us.”

             Kili froze, then turned carefully back to her. Tauriel smiled slowly, and kissed him.

            “Love?” He stammered. She nodded, and he began fumbling into his pockets and withdrew a mithril hair bead set with emeralds and sapphires. It looked like a starlit meadow.

            “This,” he held it up. “Is a Promise Bead.”

            “Oh, Kili,” she sighed. “It’s beautiful.”

            “Tauriel, if you accept this, you are mine, no matter what.” His gentle brown eyes were serious, the gravity of what he was offering her clearly etched in his eyes. She nodded, and began pulling out her braids.

            “Put it in,” she whispered. His face lit with joy, and he surged forward, kissing her deeply, slowly.

            “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I don’t know why, but I do. You represent everything I was taught to hate, but — I have felt you in my heart from the moment I laid eyes on this glorious hair of yours.”

           She laughed softly and turned in his arms. “Hurry, my love. As you said, we don’t have much time.”

           Tauriel felt him working her hair into an intricate braid, adding the weight of several beads. His fingers were deft, but his progress was slow, since he kept stopping to kiss her neck and temples. Finally, he moved back.

           “Finished, my Princess.”

           Never had Tauriel wished for a mirror more than she did at that moment, but Kili seemed to have anticipated her, and withdrew a small etched hand mirror from his pocket.

           “This is for you as well.” She took the mirror and raised it up, framing their faces side-by-side. He smiled, still blushing and then she looked at her hair.

            He’d given her an elaborate net of braids across the top and back of her head, the Promise Beads worked in in such a way that they would not be immediately seen at a glance.

          “Oh, my love! It’s beautiful! You must do my hair everyday once we are married.”

          His grin went from lopsided embarrassed to lecherous. “I plan to. It will be my honor.”

           Tauriel turned to face him and pulled him down to sit beside her. “Shall I allow an extra hour to rise in the mornings, my Prince?”

           “Yes. 15 minutes for me to do your hair, and the rest will be me trying to convince you to sleep in.”

           She laughed softly and they spent a long time courting quietly and making plans for the future, while the armies of their people prepared for war around them.

 

***

 

            Fili was waiting for his brother when he slipped back into the mountain several hours later. Kili crawled into the tent and laid out his bed roll, oblivious to his elder brother’s disapproving glare. When glaring had no effect, Fili reached over the space between their beds and punched Kili in the head.

            “ _OW_! What the hell, Fili?”

            “Where have you been, you mad bastard?! Thorin was looking for you! I told him you were out shooting to see if your leg was fully recovered. I _cannot_ tell him that kind of a whopper again!”

            Kili nodded, and crawled into bed, crossing his arms behind his head with a happy sigh. “Brother, I _am_ a fool. I love a woman so far beyond my reach she might as well _be_ the stars she reveres.”

            Fili groaned and hit Kili in the face with his pillow. Kili began laughing.

            “So you _were_ with her. I assume she accepted your proposal, daft as it is?”

            “Yes, brother, she did. I gave her three of the Promise Beads.”

            “ _KILI_! Now I know you have taken leave of your senses! One I can understand, _but all three?!_ You’re not getting married tomorrow!”

            “I know. It could be decades, but I want it to be loud and clear to all that Tauriel is _mine_.”

             He sighed again. “She even let me braid them into her hair. By Aulë, but she has glorious hair!”

            Fili wanted to scream in frustration, even as he felt a twinge of jealousy and sadness for his besotted little brother.

            There was little hope of Kili and Tauriel ever marrying, and if they did, there was a good chance they would be banished by both races. They and their children (if any) would be exiles in the World. Kili would eventually die, as would his sons and daughters, but Tauriel would be forever without a People.

             Fili pointed this out to Kili, who waved away his words.

            “We could live in Imladris, if I apologize _very nicely_ to Lord Elrond for our behavior the last time we were there. Or Men will take us in. They are less particular, as long as you have skills to offer. You know this.”

            Fili growled, annoyed that _now_ his brother was applying logic. “Mother will be disappointed.”

           “Yes,” Kili sighed, easily picturing the look on Dís’ face. “But, perhaps after we have a few little ones, she will forgive us, for their sake.”

            There was no getting around him! Kili had a counter for Fili’s every argument. With a huff, Fili snuffed the candle.

            “Forget it. Since you will not see reason, I will wish you every possible happiness, and if Uncle banishes you, when I am king, you may come back home.”

            Fili could hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “Thank you, brother, but my Princess will wither in the Mountain. I would forsake our Halls so that she may see the stars.”

            Fili sat up at this, and stared towards Kili’s bed, shocked beyond speech. So this is what a fool in love sounded like! He shook his head and lay back down.

            “I don’t know if I’m jealous and envy you or if you are mad and need to be pitied, but the doors of Erebor will always be open, Little Brother.”

            “Thank you, Big Brother. You always look out for me.”

 

***

 

            Legolas squinted at Tauriel as she floated back into her tent.

            “Where were you? You were missed at dinner.”

            “Was I?” She unslung her bow and quiver and began unhooking her swords and daggers. “Did the king ask for me?”

            “No.” He frowned at her hair. “What. Is. That?”

            “What’s what?” Tauriel sat down to pull off her boots.

            “In your hair! Only _dwarves_ wear their hair in that manner. Dwarf princesses.”

            Tauriel couldn’t help but smile. “Truly? Well, they do have a lot of hair to style.”

            Legolas stormed over and yanked her to her feet. “Father will _never_ allow you to wed that creature! He hates dwarves, and you dishonor him and all the centuries he has stood as your Guardian by even _contemplating_ such an abomination!”

            Tauriel jerked out of his grasp, resisting the urge to palm one of her throwing knives and hurl it at the prince’s head. Because of her agreement with Kili, and his rank, she and Legolas were equals now, and she had never appreciated being manhandled.

            “And yet, for all the centuries I have lived at Court, the only being who understands and respects me is a dwarf prince at the beginning of his life!”

            “Yes! _Beginning!_ You are forgetting his mortality. Father will strip you of your rank, and lock you up until the dwarf dies! Let go of this foolishness, Tauriel.” He paused, searching her face, then continued in a gentler tone.

            “For both your sakes. He belongs with his people and so do you. Let him find some . . . _bearded_ female of his own kind and live his life in peace, buried alive under the mountain.”

            “You forget, Legolas, that there are more males than females among the Dwarves. He may never have a chance to marry, and I know I will not! The king will not let a common Silvan Elf marry at Court!”

           “He will banish you!” Legolas hissed.

            “To a carefree life among the stars with my husband,” she shot back.

           “He lives under a mountain,” Legolas countered. “You will hardly be seeing the stars.”

          “Perhaps. But as you said, his life is indeed short. I can live under the mountain for 200 years. It is nothing.”

          “Your children will be accepted no-where. My father will see to that.”

          “That too depends.” Tauriel resumed her seat. “Perhaps you should leave the fate of my elflings to me. And my husband.”

          “You will regret this, Tauriel. I will say nothing for now, but the road you are on will not end well for anyone.”

          He went away, and Tauriel pulled the mirror out of her pocket and traced the edge designs.

         ‘ _We will make our own happiness,_ a’maelamin _, my beloved. We are all the Children of Eru. The Valar will not forsake us._ ’

 

***

 

           Blood. There was so much blood. Tauriel was up to her ankles in gore and the smell was starting to sicken her, but she kept looking. She had seen the dwarf princes briefly during the battle but soon lost sight of them in the melee. Now it was over, and the remaining Men, Elves and Dwarves combed the battlefield for survivors and their dead.

            Near the doors of Erebor, Tauriel spotted a blond head. Her heart dropped as she ran over, shoving aside the orc lying over him. Fili.

            “ _No . . ._ ” She cast about, heart pounding in her ears as she spotted Thorin and finally, Kili. She pulled his limp form into her arms and brushed his dark hair off his face.

            “My love, please don’t . . . please . . . ” But she knew his Light was long gone. Tauriel lowered her head over his chest and began to weep.

            “You promised,” she whispered. “We have to go and see your mother. And I want to see the halls of Erebor. I want to know the faces of our children . . .”

            Tauriel cradled him for a long time, weeping and talking to him quietly in Elvish. She was startled by a light touch on her shoulder. She started reaching for her dagger before she recognized the dwarf with the white beard. She released her weapon, but not Kili’s body.

           “Who are you?” She finally managed to get her brain to reengage in the Common Tongue.

            He was looking at her hair. After a moment, he bowed. “Balin, my dear. I see Kili had a few plans for the future.”

            Tauriel lowered her head again, nearly blind with tears. “He promised,” she whispered. “But  . . . I  . . . didn’t tell him.”

           “Tell him what?”

           “The night he proposed . . . we . . . for Elves . . . we were married. Truly, why would the Valar do this to us? We could — _would_ have worked towards peace between our people.” She looked at Balin.

           “He was so young! I was willing to wait! Do everything properly, according to your traditions.”

            Balin nodded and put a comforting hand on Tauriel’s head. “If what you say is true, lass, then I am more sorry than you can know. Perhaps, in a few years, we could have gotten our kings to see reason.”

           He sniffed, and shook his head. “Where would you have him buried, lass?”

           “With his brother. Near his mother. Lady Dís will want her sons close. And her brother.”

           “Aye, lass, that she would.”

 

***

            By the time Tauriel got to the Blue Mountains with the royal funeral escort, she could feel her soul demanding that she turn her steps towards the Sea, but she resisted the call.

           She left the group early one morning and rode ahead. Finding Dís wasn’t hard, despite the overall animosity Tauriel’s inquiries were greeted with, but when the woman opened her door, the elf’s legs nearly gave out. Clearly, Kili had favored his mother.

            Tauriel bowed, dropping to one knee before her mother-in-law’s disapproving gaze.

            “Elf. Why are you here?” Dís surveyed the woman kneeling before her with little interest.

            “My name is Tauriel.” Dís gasped as her eyes caught the beads in Tauriel’s hair.

            “Where did you get those?” the Lady demanded. “Those are meant for the Royal Ladies of Erebor!”

            Tauriel took Kili’s talisman from the amulet bag around her neck and handed it to his mother.

            “My Lady Dís, forgive me. Your sons—and your brother . . . fell before the gates of Erebor.”

            Dís started at the stone, her face going grey. “What? How? Why?”

            “Orcs and goblins of a number not see for an Age attacked the mountain. Elves, Men, and Dwarves allied to destroy them. They—died heroes.”

            Dís looked like she was about to faint. “How . . . did you come to know of me?”

            “Kili spoke of you. He  . . . asked me . . . to marry him . . . when the battle was over.”

            “But . . .  you’re an _elf_!” Dís protested, some of her colour returning.

            “And he was a dwarf,” Tauriel agreed. “And I loved him. I accepted his gifts. We . . . had all the ceremony I needed. We were wed, but I didn’t tell him. I agreed to follow the traditions of his people. This was to be our first stop. He dearly wanted your blessing.”

         Dís shook her head, even as she could picture her youngest son, raised surrounded by dwarves and humans easily falling for this elf, and charming her into returning the affection.

        “Where are you from?”

        “I was the Captain of the Guard in Mirkwood.”

         “Was?” Dís continued staring at this woman who was so boldly claiming to be her daughter.

         “King Thranduil is furious with me for agreeing to this union, and has cast me out into the World.”

         Tauriel swayed and dropped to all fours with a gasp. She was fading. Dís put the talisman into her pocket and tried to pull Tauriel to her feet.

         “What plagues you, child?”

         “I am sorry, my lady. When my . . . connection to Kili was severed, my soul chose not to remain in the World. The Valar are calling me. I should have passed by now, but . . . ” She gasped, clutching her chest. “I had to . . . come and see you.”

        Dís dragged the taller woman to her feet, and into the house. “I’ll not have you dying on my front porch.” She pushed Tauriel into a chair. “Can you not fight it?”

        “I am.” Tears were running down Tauriel’s face. “But I need to be with Kili. Please, please tell me you could have at least given us a chance.”

        Dís nodded. “I would have listened, lass, and yes, despite my brother, I think I could have given you a chance.”

        Tauriel reached over and took Dís’ hand. “I need to sleep. Just for a little while. I’m . . . so . . . tired . . .”

        Dís held the elf’s hand until her grip loosened and dropped. Dís put her forehead against Tauriel’s hair.

        “Sleep, Tauriel. Kili will be very happy to see you.” She took the talisman from her pocket and put it back into the amulet bag.

         “Oh, Kili. How could you be so reckless? But she would have been a good girl.”

          “Aye, my lady.” Dís started at Balin’s voice. She turned to the doorway. “She rode ahead of me. We were meant to arrive together.” He took the liberty of hugging Dís as the woman began to cry.

         “Balin, what is going on?! Did Thorin know of this?” She gestured towards Tauriel.  

          “How did my sons get killed? And why was Kili married to this  . . . to Tauriel?”

          Balin tried to explain, but Dís finally waved away his words. “Never mind. Where are my babies? And my brother?”

          “On the way.”  He glanced at Tauriel, who looked like she was napping peacefully, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “She felt that you would want them near you.”

          Dís nodded and closed her eyes. “Very well. Order a proper place be made for my son’s—for Kili and his wife to be buried together, as is her due as a Daughter of the House of Durin.”

          Balin bowed and departed. Soon, Tauriel’s body was borne away and Dís sat down and cried.

 

***

 

           

ChibiMethos, 2013

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
